


Bedroom Hymns

by aestreae



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stydia, Stydia Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestreae/pseuds/aestreae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic Request: Malia and Lydia are both injured during an investigation. Lydia is hurt worse than Malia, but the gang doesn’t realize it, as they are all aiding Malia. Stiles eventually notices, and slowly he realizes as much as he likes Malia, he still loves Lydia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Hymns

The operation would have been quite simple, had it not been for the unwanted accomplice. Malia and Lydia had to collect some papers or whatever on the creatures the others kept referring to as Berserker’s. Apparently the man they’d been sent out to pay a visit to had too much free time on his hands and had, therefore, decided to dedicate himself to the wonders of Norse folklore. Lydia, too, had tried that once - for no particular reason other than that she’d been bored and in a desperate need of new reading material. Either way, she hadn’t actually learned anything about Berserker’s though, which was exactly the reason she was out on a Friday night with the girl that would surely eat her if she had to, when she could have been watching, well, whatever was on TV these days.

The investigation, if they could even call it that, wasn’t even of that much importance. They’d found enough on the internet for sure. Yet, the others had insisted on the both of them going together anyway because ‘they might have missed something’. She huffed inwardly. Inevitably, the others had just sent her and werecoyote out to either bond or feel more valuable as an addition to the pack. Neither of those silent wishes were actually coming true, though, Lydia acknowledged in a mixture of exhaustion and mild bitterness: Ever since they had gotten in the car neither of them had actually spoken a word to one another and she felt worse and worse in terms of a pack member every second. Still, she didn’t bent or break because of her incapability to do anything else with her powers other than find dead bodies. After all, whereas she might not be in the possession of any claws, she had heels longer than that with which she could walk over their enemies just fine. Thank you very much.

Malia was sulking. The reason for that remained unknown to Lydia. Not that she was particularly interested in finding out either. She didn’t favor getting caught in the cross-fire. If it was boyfriend trouble, it was better if she stayed out of it. Besides, the girl really didn’t seem to feel like talking anyway - which was good. Lydia was kind of scared that she would accidentally end up revealing her supernatural powers with comments such as ‘they smell like the dead animals in the forest’. Now, she knew that Malia just sometimes blurted things like these out, but that was exactly the problem. So, that’s pretty much how Lydia ended up having to listen to the old man’s boring rambling for about two hours straight. It was only when the man stood up and went to get them some tea, that she could relax her mind a bit.

Quickly she glanced at the other woman, who, of course, had lost her attention in the first hour and now appeared to be in a trans-like-state with her eyes staring somewhere into abyss not really seeing anything and her breathing even. Was she asleep? ”Malia?” She said. No reaction. ”Malia?” Louder this time. ”Ma-” and yes, finally those eyes snapped back into reality and focused on the strawberry blonde. ”Sorr-” The rest of her apology became inaudible because of a yawn. ”I dozed off - What time is it?” Lydia shrugged her shoulders in an indifferent manner. ”Somewhere between ten and eleven, I guess.”

And that was pretty much the longest conversation they had had. It would have been longer, had it not been interfered by a blood curling scream. Malia immediately sprung into action, taking with her the chair for at least one meter as she leaped forward to attack whomever dared to intrude. The girl was brave, Lydia had to hand it to her, though she also highly feared what that bravery would lead to in the end. As the chair collided with the floor with a loud bang, the strawberry blonde had actually just stood up and Malia had already disappeared out of sight. She heard growling and the sound of claws on some sort of hard material. Then, Malia came back into sight again, murmuring something about the foul stench of death and how this wouldn’t have happened in the woods as she retreated quickly, practically running her way. ”Run!” She screamed as she passed Lydia, whose brains only now recognized their attackers as Berserkers. And so she did. She ran, but it was too late. Furious the creature seemed. Furious and ferocious. Before she even realized what was really happening, the bones the man-turned-animal wore as gloves collided with her side with such force that she flung back and hit the wall. 

There was darkness for a few seconds. Darkness that was so intense that she feared she would never see the light again. The scene before her were just shards of reality now. She saw Scott first. He was fighting the Berserker - or maybe he was just holding him off? The next she saw was Malia on the floor with Kira bowed over her accompanied by Derek - they were checking for a pulse perhaps? The scene went dark for a while again, before she snapped back after a few seconds. Her head hurt. ”Lydia?” She made a small sound of acknowledgement, which was sort of drowned out by the sound of Scott being smashed through a desk. Then, ”We have got to get you out of here.” and then louder ”We have got to get out of here!”. Scott then replied with ”No kidding!” as he got up and so the order was given. Kira and Derek proceeded to help Malia - who appeared to be reasonably fine considering everything - outside. Then it was Lydia’s turn.

”Hey,” the person that she now recognized as Stiles said ”Hey, you can do this, okay?” And she would have replied with an ‘of course’ had her head not hurt so much. So, instead, she allowed herself to be helped up in silence, only inhaling sharply when the world started turning and her vision went back to black for a second again before calming herself and starting towards the door. Her head hurt and her ribs protested with each inhalation, but at least she wasn’t dead, so that was a big plus. Kira had come back to help Scott out, luckily, so they made it all the way back into Lydia’s car without getting killed. 

Lydia still had no idea how they got out of there reasonably unharmed, but they did. Back at Derek’s evil lair or whatever, everyone pretty much huddled around Malia to ask her if she was OK. Sure, they’d asked her too, but they had believed her when she said that she was all right - which would have been good too, had they left Malia alone as well after asking once. Only Stiles kept sending her glances when he thought she wasn’t looking - and maybe even when she actually wasn’t. For some reason the rain outside was pretty much her focus point. It was better than the terrible headache and the abhorrent nausea that seemed to consume her anyway. Besides, rain was pretty, right? 

After Malia threatened to pretty much kick everyone’s ass if they didn’t stop asking her if she was fine, everyone finally seemed to settle down a bit. Scott offered to drive her home, but she politely declined (purposefully avoiding shaking her head). By the time that Stiles had stopped tending to Malia though, she had realized that she was too sluggish to ever drive home safely. So when he asked, she gave in. 

Of course, they had to bring Malia home first. The car ride was sort of painfully silent to the extend that Lydia could have sworn that she heard the pressure between Stiles and Malia. Apparently they had been fighting again. Lydia just sort of stared at the rain though, feeling a bit like she was up in the clouds herself: Everything seemed surreal. Only the sudden unpleasant sensitivity to the light the lampposts emitted was sharp and reminded her that she wasn’t actually sleeping or whatnot. She rubbed her eyes and sighed once more - and she must have fallen asleep, too, ‘cause suddenly they were at Stiles’ house. Odd. ”Stiles, I told you, I’m fine.” She could only barely distinguish the skeptical expression he wore in response because of the darkness, but knew he wore one nonetheless. ”No,” He stated simply ”you’re not.” And with that he practically jumped out of his car, before emerging next to her and opening the door. He wore one of these expressions that reminded her a bit of a hopeful puppy before it got let down. Usually, he would be let down by her, she realized. So, she decided: Not tonight. ”All right.” She unbuckled herself ”Fine.” With that she got out of the car. ”I guess we’re having a sleepover.” She’d never seen him so happy.

Stiles had always done things that other men wouldn’t do for her even when they had been her boyfriend. In an example: Stiles held the door for her so she could enter when they arrived at the front door of his house. It was completely unnecessary, but yet he did it and it was so Stiles that she kind of just loved him more for it. The sheriff sat in front of the TV, furiously tapping some buttons on the remote, but he looked up when he heard the duo enter. He didn’t even need to say anything, the way his brow bowed upward a bit in question was enough for Stiles to elaborate. ”She has a concussion, so you know, I thought that maybe she should stay here tonight?” Now, Lydia sort of looked at Stiles in a mixture of shock and question at the exact same moment that Mr Stilinski considered her. ”I don’t -” she started, but then she realized he was right and the words died in her throat. She must have hit the wall with her head, too. Amnesia was a side-effect of a concussion. Surely that’s why she just couldn’t remember that. ”Are you all right?” The sheriff asked. ”Do you need anything? Some water? Some food?” Then his brow furrowed further: ”A medic?”. Stiles now too looked at her, with this look that she wanted to end immediately while simultaneously wanting it to be sempiternal. ”Eh, no, thanks. I’m fine.” She would’ve admitted she was tired, had it not been obvious due to her exhausted expression.

Even though neither of them seemed particularly convinced, Stiles’ dad let them go upstairs after making Stiles vow he would wake her every two hours or so. Stiles then continued to guide her upstairs while wondering out loud why people with concussion even need monitoring, to which Lydia answered automatically: ”It’s because a brain injury can lead to bleeding in or around your brain, which can be fatal.”. His concern only seemed to worsen after that, making her repeatedly wish she hadn’t answered him. Still, she couldn’t help but admit it was kind of sweet too.

They talked for a while after that, about nothing of importance really. Something about sports and cars and how Stiles really should buy a new jeep but that, well, a) this jeep had a lot of sentimental value and b) his family really couldn’t afford a new car right now. Eventually, she just settled against him after having gone to change into one of his over-sized shirts in the bathroom. His heartbeat was surprisingly comforting and it wasn’t soon until the feeling of absolute dread began to spill from her veins and she felt relaxed enough to sleep. Luckily, the pain in her side had subsided.

She did sleep. She slept a lot. She slept and she snored softly too, probably. Either way, somewhere around 2 am he awoke her by softly poking her like you would poke a puppy, basically. He asked her ”Are you experiencing any bleeding in your brain?” which she answered by a ”No, I don’t think so.” before she fell asleep again. Then somewhere around 4 am he awoke her again. This time she wondered if he had been awake all this time, just looking at her. So she asked ”Have you been awake all this time?” before he could say anything, which he confirmed. ”Why?” She heard his heartbeat speed up while she simultaneously realized that his arm was around her. ”Because,” he struggled with finding the correct words, she could tell ”because you’re important to me, Lydia, and I don’t want you to die from bleeding in your brain or something like that. It would devastate me.” She repositioned herself, using her elbow to raise herself to his eye-level. ”You’re my friend.” But both realised the lie in his words. He had before he had even spoken them, because this was Lydia Martin: This was the girl he had had a crush on since kindergarten. She would never be just a friend to him. As of late, neither would he to her.

”I mean,” He ran a hand through his hair and made it even messier than before ”you’re more than that, but I just - I mean, you know.” And she did know, she had always known. ”It’s OK.” She reassured him, softly in a hushed whisper, but he shook his head. ”No, no it’s not, because I like Malia, I really do. I like her, Lydia, but she could never be you. I could never feel for her what I feel for you. I like her, Lydia. I don’t love her.” His confessions were kind of grand, even if they weren’t really big revelations as everyone had known it already all along. ”But I love you.” And before Lydia even realized what she had said, she answered ”I love you too.” 

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t kiss, even if the both of them really wanted to. Stiles was Stiles though, which, of course, meant that he would not kiss anyone - not even Lydia Martin - when technically being in a relationship with someone else. Lydia fell asleep on Stiles’ chest again and Stiles continued to wake her every two hours. Finally, when the morning came, they just sort of stayed there until Stiles’ father came to get them because they were taking so long.It was that Saturday afternoon that Malia and Stiles broke up; It was that Saturday afternoon that Lydia and Stiles got together. 

And when her lips finally touched his, softly at first before their lips touched with such passion that it was almost as if though he provided her with a breath of life, she knew she wouldn’t want it any way.


End file.
